


The one with Harry's shattered dreams of a normal year (oh and tattoos and green hair and Draco)

by MoriartyDelighted



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: HP: EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-10-30 17:24:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10881495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoriartyDelighted/pseuds/MoriartyDelighted
Summary: Harry has never looked forward to a year at Hogwarts more. A year so very wonderfully ordinary, spectacularly unremarkable, downright uneventfu-Oh well. . . he knew it was too much to hope for. What with his great fortune and all, he was lucky the illusion of normalcy lasted at least two days.





	1. New beginnings

 

 'Granger, may I have a word with you?', an approaching voice from behind her, pulled Hermione out of the deep discussion she and Ron were having in the Charms corridor, about the pros and cons of trying to coax Harry out of his room, in which he's now locked himself in.

  
 'Hmm?', she whirled around, simultaneously registering a look of shock on Ron's face.

  
 '...Malfoy?', it seemed fairly accurate to describe her present state as one of stunned speechlessness.

 The person before her was Malfoy all right, but his hair... And his arms and neck... Oh, what is he _wearing_ -

 'Yes, I have a doubt in the assignment we were given in Arithmancy yesterday.', he said, looking as polite as you please, sincerity shining in his otherwise ever so cold and mocking grey eyes. 'Would you please meet with me at a suitable hour in the library to discuss it?', he asked in a tone that sounded as if they did this every other day; hang out in the library like friends, that is.

 Malfoy was standing there in a posture of utmost ease, a hand in his _jeans_ pocket, the other holding his bag by the shoulder strap and a small hopeful smile on his face. Not a smirk, no, a smile. And that was... _unsettling_ , to say the least. His blond hair, though not long as it was during the war, was not cut short, nor was it slicked back like it used to be, but rather was lightly resting on his forehead and falling into his eyes in a carelessly handsome way.

 Blond hair, that was now streaked with soft and bold strokes of forest green.

 She should take points off for dress code violations, that's what she should, being Head Girl. The last she checked, and she _did_ check (because one was supposed to go over the rules again after being made Head Girl/Boy, no matter the number of times their boyfriend/girlfriend insisted that they already knew it by heart), t shirts and jeans with the outer uniform robes folded over one arm were not even near the realm of what is acceptable.

 It's only the second day of Eighth Year and no one was prepared for Malfoy heirs wandering about in the long corridors of Hogwarts, clearly out of their wits, asking muggleborns for help...

 'Er--', she floundered. What? You can't blame her for being thrown a bit off track, can you? _You_ didn't have your avid hater of seven years come up to you and ask for homework aid out of the blue.

 'Malfoy what are you playing at?' Ron asked tiredly, having had better luck than her at regaining his voice. After the war he has been like that, never raising his voice or arguing with anyone, and now with even Malfoy failing to get a reaction out of him, Hermione was beginning to get worried.

 'Oh. Weasley, excuse me for having barged into your conversation like that, I apologize, but this problem is rather confusing me greatly. Granger, what do you say?'. He... apologized. Hermione was beginning to seriously wonder whether the boy was Confunded, Imperiused or just plain dropped on his head.

 'Um', she gathered herself, _what does she_ say, _oh boy where to_ start, hoisting her bag further up her shoulder and cleared her throat, 'your hair... It's green, you know.'

 'Yes, I should know, since I'm the one who dyed it so.' He sounded amused and a slight smirk took the smile's place which instantly vanished as he checked his wristwatch. _His Muggle wristwatch, okay that's_ it _she was at a total loss_.                                            

  'Oh sorry, I'm running late. Muggle studies in five. Shame you dropped it. We could've gone together. Hmm. Well do let me know if you decide to help, I've searched about a hundred library books and they're no help at all ugh. See you back in the Common Room. Weasley.' He nodded to Ron and hurried down the corridor, through a side door, presumably a shortcut to the classroom.

Hermione stared at the closed door for a few seconds after he'd gone through it. Finally, Ron broke the silence. 'I can't wait to see the look on Harry's face when he sees the git.' He sniggers.

Hermione shook herself and turned around, 'Erm. Yeah, wonder what he'll think. Probably that Malfoy is up to something again.' They shared a small laugh, partly in confusion as to what they'd just witnessed.

'But er I'm positive that I had once read in a library book that it was against pureblood custom to _defile_ their skin, as they put it, with markings of any sort. Part of the reason why Death Eaters gained even more of an ill reputation. But I'm also positive that...'

'Yeah, those were definitely tattoos, Hermione.' Ron said and looked the tiniest bit admiring at Malfoy's show of rebellion.

  ****

They had a free period and by unspoken agreement, they decided to use it to go and persuade Harry to at least come to their last class of the day, Potions, which was in two hours. Professor Slughorn was already miffed at not seeing Harry in his class on the first day. Harry had refused to come out of his room the first day no matter how much she and Ron tried to make him. He didn't come down for meals either so they had to even take the food up to him.

 

The war has surely affected everyone, but Harry was becoming worrisomely less and less conversational as the days went past.

He had gone back to Grimmauld Place and tried to make it habitable again but the morning four days after had found a haggard Harry Potter at The Burrow's doorstep. He looked like he had gone all those four days without sleep or food.

Without a single question asked, Molly had taken Harry inside and took care of him. All the while shedding silent tears. The absence of explosive noises from Fred and George's room was now even more pronounced in the silent household.

Hermione had come to The Burrow during the last week, after having restored her parents' memory and settled them back into their lives. The trio and Molly went shopping for school supplies at Diagon Alley and went to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The name board which had magically changed itself to the present title, was too painful to look at; they went straight up to the flat above the shop.

George had greeted them mechanically and refused to come back to The Burrow no matter how much Molly asked him to. In the end, he looked at her in the eyes and said, his voice breaking, showing the first sign emotion, 'I can't, mum. Don't you understand, I _can't_...'

Molly had rushed out immediately hand over the mouth and the others, after mumbled goodbyes, went after her.

 

Now it's the second day of their academic year and PTSD or not, it's a boarding school and they've got classes to attend.

The eighth years, not being a usual batch of students at Hogwarts, had no accommodation in the dormitories. So they were arranged quarters in the Central Tower.

With only twenty or so out of the forty of them returning, (the others, mainly the ones who had gotten at least some proper education during their seventh year, opted for learning by themselves and writing the exams through the long distance program) there was no need for dormitories anymore so they were each allowed private rooms. Rooms that were by no means luxurious but cozy enough.

They reached the bottom of the tower and the portrait of Anne Boleyn the Healer which guarded the entrance to it. After giving the password ( _healing hearts_ ), they were let into the Common room. It was a neutrally themed circular room with Ivory and brown coloured walls, furnished with brown armchairs and a few tables scattered around the room and a single sofa facing the curved fireplace to the right. Plaques and banners of all four houses were mounted on the wall alternately.

They made their way up on the spiral staircase, on the opposite side of the entry, which had a landing every ten feet up and each landing had two doors facing each other at an angle, leading to two students' rooms. Harry's was at the top most level and the occupant of the opposite room hasn't gone through the door at normal hours for all the two days they've been here, but they knew it was a Slytherin by the coloured porcelain plaque on the door.

'HARRY-', Hermione began as she rounded the last turn but was cut short as Harry was standing there in front of his closed door in full uniform and school bag slung over a shoulder. He had a look of resignation about him.

'Yeah I knew you'd drag me out anyway so why not come out with at least some of my dignity intact eh?', he tried to smile.

Hermione felt a warm sense of pride inside her at having him behave so responsibly, but said 'Let's just hope professor McGonagall won't be asking after your absence but I don't think she knows. We haven't had Transfiguration yet.'

'So Harry, the class isn't for another two hours where do you reckon we go?', said Ron.

'Yeah I know, I thought er maybe we could walk around, you know, visit all the places that actually took a hit and see how everything's er... healing.' said Harry.

'I was thinking maybe we could go to the library-'

'Of course you were, love.' Ron shook his head in exasperation.

Hermione glared at Ron and continued.'-but let's do what you said. I think we ought to ask Professor McGonagall if we can help in the repairs in any way we can.' She went down the steps and into her room to empty her bag and only keep the Potions material inside. Walking around with heavy books unnecessarily wasn't exactly sensible, was it?

They went around the castle, mentally taking in every detail and subconsciously comparing it with their experience during the war. The castle was almost fully repaired as the rest of the members of The Order had worked relentlessly in the three months that followed the war and preceded school opening, to restore everything to the last small detail, especially keeping the students who saw Hogwarts as home in mind.

Whatever damage done was done, but they had to try their best to erase the tainted memories of everyone, especially last year's first-year children. They must have viewed Hogwarts through terrified eyes, never knowing who to trust, never knowing right from wrong.

To them, Hogwarts must've been a place where wizards and witches were judged and separated based on their blood status and where unimaginable pain was the punishment for their brave few classmates who had refused to fall at the feet of Professors and do their twisted bidding at their command.

All moroseness aside, it was good to see the castle making a recovery from all that it had been through last year. They went to Hagrid's Hut and Harry and Ron helped themselves to his rock cake while talking to a frantic Hagrid trying to magic the slugs off his pumpkins. Hermione helped him cast the right spell.

'Honestly Hagrid, you know you should've sprayed the repellent a week ago. More than five days after full moon, they have no effect.' she admonished him.

'I know, I know Hermione, but I 'ad to prepare for class for yeh lot didn' I? Now that I've got me wand back and all, hah! Beaky can't wait to see the third years!', Hagrid said cheerfully.

McGonagall had arranged for Hagrid's pink umbrella to be replaced with the actual wand. All charges against him  were cleared, he was proven innocent and the Ministry apologised for having snapped his wand based on false accusations. The sheer joy of being able to use a proper wand again had made Hagrid happy to the point of childishly ecstatic; no one could watch him and not smile now.

Their two hours were almost up and after excusing themselves, they went back up to the castle and down to the dungeons.

 ***

Ron and Hermione are behaving rather oddly around him. Like he was some fragile cargo that needed special handling.

All those days spent ( especially after his breakup with Ginny) reassuring them that he was fine, contrary to their worry, were wasted then. 

So what if Harry was not talking much, he wasn't brooding as they keep saying he was. He was finally just letting himself relax and absorb; absorb the world around him, what has changed and what hasn't, which voids had been filled and which had not, which additions were welcome, and above all he was giving in to the supreme calm that came with the knowledge that there was no more a dark cloud of gloom hovering over their heads, high or low. 

He, Harry, was simply existing. Living and letting live. Revelling in the normalcy of being able to go to classes again, to walk through the grounds lazily on a Sunday, to wander around the castle, late at night, inside his invisibility cloak, to eat at the Great Hall again. 

Harry had learned at a young age that crying over spilt milk, or mourning for the dead way past the time warranted for that matter was a sure way of losing possession of a sound mind. He's learned to be content with what the present offers without dwelling on the past.

Plus, the two nights and a day back at Hogwarts, spent in his room, curled up on the bed, under a thick blanket, crying his heart out and sobbing till his lungs were on the verge of collapse helped too. 

'So Harry', began Hermione as they were walking through a dimly lit corridor to the classroom. They were just in time.

'Hmm?', Harry turned to look at her and raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

'Have you decided how to pass Potions this year, now that it involves actual studying and not just copying deviant instructions from a book?', she _still_ sounded pissed about the book, _Merlin_.

But Harry just laughed softly, 'Thought I'd partner with you, you know now that we're supposed to be in teams of two in class. That way you can be the smartest witch I know and do all the work and I can copy it and save my reputation. Isn't that a great idea?' he smiled somewhat cheekily at her.

By the looks of it, Hermione was trying to look quite stormy and was about to scold him good, when Ron interrupted, 'Oi what about me then? I'm not exactly an adept at this either you know.' he glared at Harry.

'Oh Ron, you can partner with Smith for all I care because the only thing that truly matters is that I save my face in front of the old slug.' Harry said, smiling somewhat mockingly. 'Come _on_ you two!' He gave up and walked briskly up to the door of the classroom. Harry firmly resolved to talk to Slughorn after class and clear up the misunderstanding about his clearly overestimated Potions skills.

 


	2. Events Unnatural

The class hadn't started yet but it was only a matter of a couple of minutes. Approaching the open door, Harry gets a look at the scene inside. He knew that they were having classes with all four houses since there were only a few from each. So the tables of two were all hosting a mixed population of students. They were chatting quietly, having had found pairs already.

Despite what he said, Harry knew that Ron and Hermione were going to be together and fervently hoped that he himself wouldn't be stuck with Smith. He didn't want to spend that class hearing the dreadful rat spit venom and mutter about how Voldemort decided to just roll over and die because that was a more likely situation than Harry actually defeating him. 

He quietly stepped inside the classroom, doing a quick scan to find available seats. Neville was partnered with a blond boy who had his back to Harry and was engaged in conversation with him, Harry assumed it would be someone from Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff with a keen interest in Herbology; Dean and Seamus, Boot and Parvati, Goldstein and Finch Fletchley, Zabini and Greengrass, Corner and Hannah; Mandy and Lisa Turpin from Ravenclaw and others he knew by their faces but not by name.

Thankfully Smith seemed to have not returned, after all, Harry'd have been surprised if the supreme prick's face showed at Hogwarts after what he did. The coward's pathetic attempt to squirrel to safety, burrowing through a group of terrified first years was bound to be still fresh in everyone's minds. 

But thankfully there in the back of the class was a table with someone occupying it, someone of a massive bulk seems to be trying to blend into the shadows at the corner. Sulking at the table partnerless was... Goyle. 

Figures. With a defeated sigh, Harry dragged himself to the back of the class, mentally congratulating the universe for a job so well done; the two possibly worst students of Potions in their year paired together for what could be the entire term. He personally thought it would be a miracle if they manage to not cover one another in incurable boils by the end of the week.

Ron and Hermione took the empty table at the front after sending a small pitying look at Harry; Hermione silently promising that she would, in fact, help him get through this year, seeing his miserable company that they've doomed him to. At least, that's what she ought to do. 

And why in the name of Merlin hadn't Malfoy paired with Goyle? _Where was he anyw-_

 _'_ Are you going to sit down? Slughorn's about to enter.', said a still sulking Goyle without looking at him and Harry settled down into his seat. He craned his neck to look at the door on the front right corner and right Goyle was, the enormous belly of Slughorn was entering the room head first. Uh, belly first. Oh, _whatever_.

 

 

                                                                                                     *-*-*

 

 

It wasn't easy mending the broken bridges, most of them hanging by a mere thread, if not fully detached. The first night back at Hogwarts, Draco had shut himself in his room, with some food grabbed from the kitchens, and had made a list of the names of people he had offended, starting with the ones he had made suffer the most. No contest for the first position anyway. The second was tied by Granger and Weasley, third was Longbottom and on it went.

When by midnight he was finally done, Draco was conscience stricken at the sheer length of the list. Not for the first time since the fateful day in the Room of Requirement, he gave thanks to whatever remaining morals he had left in his seventh year, for vehemently refusing to exercise the Cruciatus on students in detention. If he hadn't, this list would've required a separate column of 'People who'd like to kill Draco or do even worse'.

 

 

 

His trials were filled with them though. He couldn't do anything but watch as Father was dragged out of the courtroom and into Azkaban to serve his lifetime. He couldn't do anything but look on wide eyed as Potter burst in at the last minute and spoke in favour of Mother and how it had singlehandedly reduced Mother's sentence from a life term in Azkaban to two years' house arrest.

He couldn't do anything but stand stunned when Potter spoke for _him_ , listing all that Draco had done for the good side, how he had saved Potter's life and thus indirectly enabling the ultimate win of the battle. He refused to settle for a reduced sentence and backed down only when Draco was allowed to go free. Persistence was definitely one of Potter's strong suits.

Draco Malfoy wasn't even a willing member of the Death Eaters, Potter had said. But he was, at first. He joined on his own volition. But never oh _never_ had a day gone past, without him regretting that decision. He owed Potter, he knew that. But how can he possibly repay this, let alone the time when Potter had saved his life?

It might have been just another act of heroics for Potter but it was something life altering for Draco. The knowledge that he was allowed another chance had slowly crept upon Draco during the long months he was brooding and pitying himself at The Manor. It smothered Draco and refused to let go of its hold until he wholeheartedly willed himself to make whatever amends he could and start anew. 

 

 

 

It was pointless to go after Potter himself first and try to make _friends_. That's the strangest thing they could ever be. So Draco resorted to saving the 'best' for the last and set forth on working on the others.

Granger, down. Only a matter of two library sessions and she'll be willing to hear him out, unbiased.

Weasley, not so. Merlin, he'd be lying if he said he had any idea on how to make up with someone whom (and whose family) he had insulted through and through for entire years just for their lack of gold. Well that and the horrid hair, really, but nothing to be done about that. Horrid hair is still horrid.

Longbottom, well that's the one he was working on now. From this morning, Draco was subtly making up reasons to interact with him and thankfully right then in the first lesson that was Herbology, Longbottom's great love for the great flora was revealed.

He was surprisingly forgiving once they started talking. When after lunch, they met in Potions again for the last class, it took him no time to pair up with Longbottom, who's Neville now, and easily start up a conversation about Fluxweed and the effects of its varied quantities in the making of the polyjuice potion. 

Even after completing the agenda that was on his mind, Draco found himself reluctant to part the company of his newfound friend. Neville was nothing if not easygoing. Draco tried hard not to relapse into a fit of regretful emotions related to his horrible treatment of the boy in previous years. But Neville made it easier, being almost impossible to shut up when he's talking about his herb garden at home.

 

The professor entered the class and the chatter died away. Books were tentatively taken out by some who hadn't already done so. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE KUDOS AND COMMENT


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